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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24819880">all this devotion</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/raccooninvestigator/pseuds/raccooninvestigator'>raccooninvestigator</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Persona 5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Bathing, Getting Together, Hurt/Comfort, Literal Hurt/Comfort, Literal Sleeping Together, M/M, Massage, NO ROYAL SPOILERS, Nightmares, PTSD, Trans Akira Kurusu, Trans Male Character, cw for breasts but it’s not sexy and it’s brief, oops! all soft, pegoryu, spoilers for the major november plot points</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 03:07:23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,551</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24819880</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/raccooninvestigator/pseuds/raccooninvestigator</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>On November 21st, Akira and Ryuji share a nightmare.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Amamiya Ren/Sakamoto Ryuji, Kurusu Akira/Sakamoto Ryuji, Persona 5 Protagonist/Sakamoto Ryuji</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>132</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>all this devotion</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThunderstormsandMemories/gifts">ThunderstormsandMemories</a>.</li>



    </ul></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>In all the hours since Akira had walked through the door, Ryuji had not left his side. Not when the night was getting dark. Not when his stomach started whining. Not as the room grew stuffy from the overworked heater. Not after Akira drifted into fitful sleep, curled up against his chest.</p><p>It had gotten late while the Phantom Thieves celebrated their reunion. There was school tomorrow. Despite the adrenaline, all of his friends knew they needed to live a normal life if they wanted their mission to succeed. But none of them wanted to leave Akira - whose cut up face only highlighted how much quieter he was tonight - so Ryuji had insisted that he would stay and look after him. Ryuji was the one most likely to get caught cutting class, after all; it would be pretty normal for him to show up late tomorrow. The lack of protest from their dark haired leader made it clear that tonight he needed to be anything but alone.</p><p>Ryuji wished he could say they talked, but the few words Akira had gotten out upon his arrival made it pretty clear he wasn't ready yet. Ryuji didn't mind. He quietly sat with him. Made sure he had water. Encouraged him at least to lie down. He waited.</p><p>Ryuji wasn't patient, but with Akira he didn't feel like he was waiting. Falling into silence beside him was the most natural thing in the world. Being with his friend felt like slipping into a favorite pair of sneakers. Sneakers that had run miles with him. Sneakers that supported him, kicked ass with him. Sneakers that had kept him grounded against the shifting tides of reality. Long after Akira closed his eyes, Ryuji ran his fingers against dark locks. He was real. He was here. He was alive.</p><p>Ryuji drifted off, but only for a moment. His dream was full of harsh neon lights; the glare of a thousand shadowy eyes. A cop with Kamoshida's face rebroke his bones as he watched a bullet tear through Joker's skull. He woke up to the sound of his best friend screaming.</p><p>Brown eyes snapped open as Ryuji pushed himself out of his own nightmare. Akira thrashed against the bed, his body writhing in pain. Instinctively, Ryuji reached for the thief's hand, twining fingers around his and letting out soothing whispers. "I'm here, man," he crooned low and sweet. "Stay with me, buddy." Akira looked glazed over, cheeks flushed, and Ryuji put his hand on his face.</p><p>"You're gonna be okay, 'Kira," he promised as the other boy's breathing evened out. "I've gotcha." His thumb grazed against the bandage on Akira's cheek, and it came away at his touch. The cut underneath it was raw and deep, and Ryuji promised himself that he would spend the rest of his life making those cops regret the day they were born.</p><p>"Bleeding," Akira mumbled hoarsely, struggling to rise. The blonde rolled out of bed quickly.</p><p>"Stay there dude. Drink some water. I gotcha."</p><p>For the first time in hours, he left Akira's reach, taking the stairs two at a time as he ran into Lebanc's kitchen. It took him a second to find what he needed - Boss didn't let him back here often - but he shoved the antiseptic and bandages into his pajama pockets while scouting the dishrack. Waiting for the water to heat up felt like it took ten thousand years; each second he and Akira were apart dragged like a cinder block sinking underwater. Ryuji was not patient. Finally, more carefully, he returned upstairs, water bowl and towel in hand.</p><p>Akira raised an eyebrow, but under the cuts and bruises he had no bite. Ryuji motioned for him to move to the floor, and he complied gingerly, as if his bones were made of glass. The second the warm towel touched his face, the other boy melted into his touch. Ryuji moved slowly, washing sweat from his hairline and dried dirt from his nose. He squeezed the antiseptic onto his fingertips, gently rubbing it into the scrapes and cuts left by officers, blood boiling at bruises shaped like boot treads. Akira flinched as he applied it to the weeping gash across his cheekbone, bit his tongue rather than cry out.</p><p>Ryuji taped on a fresh bandage, and wished he could simply say "all better."</p><p>So the blonde didn't stop there, rewetting the rag and dabbing it under Akira's chin. The boy tilted his head back, and Ryuji wiped slow stripes down his neck, around his jawline, behind his ears. A ghost of a smile flickered at the edge of Akira's lips, a smile Ryuji couldn't help but mirror. Even after being arrested, being drugged and beat, Akira was still Akira. Still a fucking catboy.</p><p>One hand - the one with the washcloth - lingered on Akira's neckline, while the other smoothed an errant lock of black hair behind his ear, chasing that tiny smile. "I, uh," Ryuji stuttered, the picture of eloquence, "could keep going? Imagine it'll be a bit before you can get to the bathhouse and all." Akira leaned into his hand and nodded, lips twitching.</p><p>He pulled the gray t-shirt off, torn between looking away out of modesty or acting like it wasn't a big deal. The mental coin toss in Ryuji's head landed on the latter, so he focused on the work, pumping a little more soap on the cloth so he could wash him down more effectively. Ryuji dragged the cloth against Akira's collarbone, noting the wispy sigh it brought from his lips. His collar seemed to protrude so much more from his chest than it did last summer, and Ryuji made a mental note to add Akira to his list of people invited over for regular meals.</p><p>At first he skirted around Akira's breasts, focusing his attention to the side of his body, the thin lines of his abs. It was only Akira sinking more deeply into his touch that gave him the courage to move upward, brown eyes trained to his best friend's face for signs of discomfort. Despite being infinitely more clothed than their trips to the bathhouse, this was more intimate than any moment they had shared. Akira's cool gray eyes searched Ryuji's face for ... something. He wasn't sure what. The runner didn't dare let himself linger long enough to find out.</p><p>Ryuji soaped up his hands and motioned for Akira to turn around, resulting in a puzzled look.</p><p>"Trust me." It was a lot to ask. Akira's trust was rightfully in short supply these days. After a few moments staring, he complied. "Rest your head on the mattress."</p><p>After he got settled, Ryuji ran his sudsy hands up Akira's back, a long, fluid motion from waist to neck. The resulting sigh was a gift in the storm of the past few days. He repeated the motion, traveling the length of Akira's spine with his palms, letting the soap rub along every inch of his skin. He kept his touch light, not wanting to provoke any of the bruises or cuts on Akira's back as he slid his hands up and over his shoulders. The soap dried quickly, so he re-wet and lathered his hands before carefully kneading Akira's skin.</p><p>The injured boy moaned, arching his back slightly under Ryuji's touch. "Maybe I should get captured more often," Akira teased. Ryuji seized up, eyes locked onto the back of his leader's head. He could still see the bullet hole from his dream. Ryuji shook his head to clear the vision, swapping back to the towel. The feeling of the cooling water helped wash away the taste of fear in his mouth.</p><p>"I think I'd rather die," Ryuji mumbled, wiping soap from Akira's skin.</p><p>"Don't say that." Akira’s voice was cold, holding back emotion, like it had been in the spring.</p><p>Ryuji sighed, leaning forward, resting his forehead in Akira's curls and his hands on the small of his back. "I'd die before I lose you."</p><p>Akira turned around, probably to pierce him with another one of those soul reading stares he was known for. Ryuji didn't flinch, simply stared back. Halfway undressed, beaten down, practically sitting on Ryuji's lap, yet Akira Kurusu looked as unreadable as ever. Akira's forehead brushed against Ryuji's and for a moment, both were very still.</p><p>Akira's lips were soft against his. Then they were gone, Akira pulling away, crossing his arms over his chest. In the pre-dawn light, Ryuji could see a blush creeping up his ears.</p><p>"I'm sorry," Akira whispered. "It just felt right."</p><p>Ryuji closed the distance between them as soon as Akira spoke, fingers hooking into frizzy hair. His thumbs brushed the edges of Akira's cheeks, careful to avoid the injuries left there. This time when their mouths met, he was ready for it, kissing back with relief and joy and overwhelming pride bubbling up inside him.</p><p>“That’s because it is right.” The blonde kissed him again, gentle and slow. Akira’s arms wrapped around him shakily, and Ryuji pulled him in. The languid movement of their mouths became an anchor. Akira was alive. No one killed him, no one kept him locked away underground, they had escaped and he was holding him and he would never, ever, not even once, let him go again.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Inspired by my pal ThunderstormsandMemories who wrote this lovely Pegoryugoro chatfic and damnit it made me want to see soft boys kissing</p></blockquote></div></div>
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